Work Text:
“Excuse me...!” a flute-like voice calls from behind Sakumo, sounding out of breath and much closer than anyone should have gotten without him noticing them.
Sakumo turns around, looking down in surprise at the child that comes to a stop a few steps from them. He shoots a quick glance at his son and sees a flash of recognition in Kakashi's eyes. A classmate then.
“I–” the boy starts quietly as large hazel eyes peer up at Sakumo from behind a curtain of pin-straight brown hair. The boy's hands tighten around the bundle of fabric he's gripping onto nervously before he holds it out towards Kakashi. “I'm sorry, I found this at your desk,” he says quickly, his eyes flickering from Kakashi to Sakumo and breath misting the cold November air. “And I thought that you might, uhm, need it?” His voice trails off, painfully hesitant.
Sakumo feels his eyes soften as he crouches down to the boy's level. For some reason, he feels bad for towering over him. “That was very nice of you,” he says gently, smiling at the boy. He tugs Kakashi forward with a sigh. “Come on, Kakashi, you should thank your classmate for going through the trouble of bringing you your scarf.”
Kakashi gives him a petulant look but turns towards the boy, nonetheless. “Thank you,” he grumbles, taking the scarf from finely shivering hands.
Sakumo frowns as his eyes catch on an amateurishly wrapped bandage around the kid's lower arm before a dark sleeve slips back down to cover it. He quickly schools his expression back into a smile, trying to meet the boy's eyes and making sure to keep his face open and friendly. “I'm Sakumo. What's your name?”
The boy looks surprised for a moment, blinking up at him slowly. “Genma,” he says quietly. “And I know who you are, sir.”
Sakumo chuckles, and he can practically hear his son's eye roll. “Being called sir makes me feel old. Just Sakumo is fine, Genma-kun,” he says, resisting the instinctive urge to ruffle the boy's hair. “Would you like to join us for dinner? We were about to go to Ichiraku, and you look like you could use something to warm you up.”
Genma flushes. He tugs at his sleeves and wraps his too-big jacket around himself tightly, thin wrists disappearing in a pool of black fabric. “I'm fine, Hatake-san. I wouldn't want to impose.”
“My, how polite. Hear that, Kakashi? You could take notes from Genma-kun.” He ignores the look Kakashi shoots him and turns back to face Genma. “And you wouldn't be imposing. I'd like to get to know my son's classmate.”
Kakashi mutters something that sounds like ‘stop being pushy’ under his breath, but he hasn’t walked away, so Sakumo knows he doesn’t really mind the offer.
Genma still looks hesitant, and Sakumo goes in for the final push. “Please, it'd be my treat. As a thanks for bringing Kakashi's scarf,” he says, sees hazel eyes flash at the plea, and he thinks he's got him.
“Thank you for the offer, Hatake-san, but I should be getting home. My fa–” Genma's voice goes high and cracks, hands tightening in his sleeves. “My father will start worrying if I'm not back home soon,” he mutters, and before Sakumo could try to argue, he turns around with a quick goodbye and disappears behind the nearest corner.
Sakumo lets out a sigh, shaking his head as he stands up. Maybe he's just overthinking.
—
Over the years, Sakumo's mind keeps flashing with the look in those large hazel eyes. He feels haunted by them almost, every instinct screaming at him to look into it.
He convinces himself he doesn’t need to. It remains one of his two biggest regrets for the rest of his life.
—
Sakumo is making his way in between the graves of Konoha’s cemetery with a bouquet of fresh lilies in his hands when he notices a small figure standing by one of the newest ones. He squints, sees a familiar head of chestnut hair, and his heart drops to his stomach.
“Genma-kun…” he whispers once he reaches him, and pushes down the urge to put a hand on a thin shoulder. The left side of the boy's face sports a large, dark bruise, looking out of place on his delicate features, and Sakumo feels the familiar heat of anger in his chest.
Genma keeps looking straight ahead, his expression solemn as he faces his father's grave. “You knew.”
Sakumo slowly moves closer. “I suspected,” he admits, coming to a stop next to Genma.
“He hated me,” Genma says suddenly and without any inflection. He looks up with tear tracks shining on his flushed cheeks as his shoulders start shaking. “He hated me,” he repeats, his voice raw and pained in a way someone’s his age should never have to be. “I hated him, so why can't I just be happy that he's gone?”
Sakumo crouches down next to the boy, only then noticing the splotches of purple peeking out under the fabric wrapped around his throat, feeling his hands tighten into fists and crush the flowers he’s he’s holding. He throws them to the ground, desperately trying to think of something to say but coming up short. Instead, he places a hesitant hand on Genma’s shoulder, and hopes the contact will provide at least some comfort.
In the next moment, he finds himself with an armful of sobbing academy student.
Genma’s shoulders feel even thinner than he had thought, and the fact that he’s three years older than Kakashi and still smaller fills Sakumo with a deep-seated worry.
Genma keeps crying into his vest, his whole frame trembling, and even now, with no one around other than the two of them, he doesn’t make a sound.
—
Sakumo asks Shikaku for the report later. It takes a while, with it being a medically discharged officer’s death and all, but he does get it.
Acute alcohol poisoning due to inhibition of the respiratory centre and eventual asphyxia.
Sakumo doesn't even feel bad for the satisfaction curling in his belly.
—
“The boy is nine!” Sakumo doesn’t quite yell out, but it’s a close thing. He can’t quite keep the contempt from his voice as he glares at the Hokage, though.
Hiruzen sighs heavily, looking much older than he really is. “I know, but he has no living relatives and is old enough to live on his own. He’ll receive a monthly stipend like all the other orphaned non-clan children–”
“You know his father beat him,” Sakumo snaps, voice laced with cold satisfaction at seeing Hiruzen’s eye twitch. “He needs support, an adult that won’t hurt him–“
“And I take it that you’d be this adult?” Hiruzen cuts him off nonchalantly, as if they were discussing the weather instead of a child’s future, and Sakumo entertains the thought of setting his pack off at the Third Hokage for a brief moment.
He nods, resolute. “Yes. He could stay with me and Kakashi.”
“I see. However, my answer remains the same. With no blood relatives to express their agreement, we can’t just give custody of a child – one about to graduate at that – to an unrelated adult. I’m sure you understand,” Hiruzen says with a note of finality in his voice.
Sakumo wants to argue, badly, but he is logical enough to realize when something is futile. Right now it’s better to give in before the Sandaime forbids him from interacting with Genma entirely – which is something Sakumo would have thought unthinkable only a few minutes ago, but the cold look in the other man’s eyes convinces him it could very well happen.
—
Genma looks up at him with an unreadable look in his eyes. “Sakumo-san?”
“Yes?”
“Have you…” Genma pauses, gaze trailing over to where Kakashi is trying (and failing) to ignore Maito Dai’s son. “Have you ever hurt your son?”
Sakumo’s blood runs cold. “No. I haven’t,” he replies, matching Genma’s quiet tone.
Genma hums, not taking his eyes off Kakashi. “Will you?”
“Never.” He looks at the boy’s eyes as he says it, his voice firm. “I swear I will never hurt him for as long as I live.”
Genma nods, but Sakumo feels like it’s not enough.
—
In the end, Genma is given a small, rundown apartment nestled into the residential part of Konoha.
Sakumo and Kakashi stop by every Saturday morning on their way to Training ground 14, and without fail, Genma greets them with a smile and freshly baked pastries. Sakumo, to Kakashi’s utmost amusement, still hasn’t managed to make Genma tell him which bakery he gets the buns from.
Similarly – and because Sakumo’s conscience needs it to curb the constant worry – Genma starts coming over to the compound every Wednesday. They have dinner together, Genma insists on washing the dishes and Sakumo frowns at Kakashi until he starts drying them with a few choice grumbles, before Genma heads home and Sakumo and Kakashi go out for their daily run with the pups.
It’s a nice routine. One that Sakumo wishes would last for the decades to come.
—
Sakumo fails a mission.
Sakumo fails a mission, keeps three children from becoming orphans, and ensures the entire village’s ire towards him in the process.
The glares and snide remarks he can take. The distrust of anyone he’s partnered with in the following weeks is more difficult, but still manageable. It is when the contempt and scorn turn towards Kakashi that Sakumo realizes the true weight of his actions.
When Kakashi starts avoiding going out into the village altogether, Sakumo feels guilt sink its frigid claws into his chest.
When Genma tells him quietly – in a voice laced with frustration – that the kids have taken to calling Kakashi the traitor’s son in a cruel mockery of the moniker he used to preen at, the coldness spreads, freezing his lungs and making every breath a challenge.
He worries about Kakashi – curious, sharp-tongued, and so painfully soft-hearted – worries what this means for him, for his future. Sakumo is already getting fewer missions, some people refusing to work with him, if that’s what awaits his son–
He makes his decision. This way, he’ll at least manage to protect Kakashi’s future. Even if he won’t be around to see it.
But, to the very end, Sakumo is weak, so he waits for another Wednesday.
Just one more, he tells himself, wanting to see Kakashi grumble about the food but wolf it down anyway, holding back a laugh at something Pakkun said as Genma scolds him for eating too fast. He wishes he could at least apologize to Genma for breaking his promise, but this is for the best.
Once they finish eating (in silence, as Sakumo has grown quiet over the weeks), Kakashi leaves, disappearing into the woods, and Genma goes to the sink to wash the dishes.
Sakumo stays in his seat, feeling like he’s looking at himself from the other side of a mirror.
He meets Genma’s eyes when he turns around to face him, and whatever the boy sees in his face makes him drop the plate he’s holding. The ceramic shatters, but neither one of them moves.
“You would do that to him,” Genma whispers shakily, his eyes wide and disbelieving.
Before Sakumo can say anything, Genma’s face morphs into anger, and in the next moment, he’s crossing the distance between them, leaving bloody footprints in his wake. “How dare you? He adores you,” he says, fingers twitching, seemingly wanting to shake Sakumo. Or punch him. “You’ve been pulling away from him lately, so I assumed you were trying to work through things. I never would have thought–” his voice cracks and breaks, hands tightening into fists as he takes a breath to collect himself.
Distantly, Sakumo wonders how Genma realized what he was planning to do.
“You don’t get to do that to him,” Genma says with a glare. “I don’t know what you thought you would achieve by–” he cuts himself off, face tight and pained, and Sakumo feels guilt well up in his chest. He’s been feeling that a lot lately. “Do you really think he’d want you gone rather than deal with a few assholes?”
“It’s not a few assholes!” Sakumo retorts, the words only serving to make the fury in Genma’s eyes brighter.
Genma levels him with a glare that’s entirely too out of place on his young face, the twelve-year-old’s voice a flat, sharp knife when he speaks. “I don’t care. Even if it was the fucking daimyou – you’re supposed to look out for him and love him!”
“I do love him! That’s why I want to protect his future!” Even as the words leave his lips, they sound hollow – like a badly thought up excuse. Still. He failed a mission – failed the village – so he has to atone. Has to do the right thing. He shouldn’t let Genma's words stop him.
“By not being there for it? By leaving him alone? You–” Genma cuts himself off suddenly, deflating and pulling out a chair to sit down facing Sakumo. “Please don’t do anything stupid. I’m not above reporting you for an evaluation or monitoring, though I’d rather not have to. It would worry Kakashi, and I don’t want to hurt him even more.”
Sakumo stays silent. He knows Genma is not making an empty threat and as far as missions above a C-rank go, there really is no coming back from a visit to the psych ward. Deep down, he’s thankful for the excuse – he doesn’t want to leave Kakashi.
He lets out a heavy sigh and tries to meet Genma’s eyes. “Don’t tell him, please,” he whispers.
“I won’t,” Genma replies, just as quietly. “As long as you don’t do anything stupid, that is.”
“When did you become so…”
Genma snorts and looks at Sakumo like he’s just asked something nonsensical. “It’s amazing what a few years without constant fear of my piece of shit father can do, huh?” He smiles, little more than a wry twist of his lips as he keeps rubbing at the still-bleeding sole of his foot absentmindedly. “You and Kakashi were there for me when I had no one. And even before that, you were… kind. You have no idea how badly I wanted to accept that invitation for ramen when we first talked,” he says, flashing a crooked grin before he gives Sakumo a weighted look. “You swore, remember? That you would never hurt Kakashi. Now’s the time to keep that promise.”
With that, Sakumo feels the last of the fight leaving him. When he senses Kakashi’s chakra signature at the edge of the forest, he stands up and walks over to a cabinet to take out the first-aid kit. “Come on, let me bandage those cuts,” he tells Genma, a silent understanding passing between them.
—
It won't be until years later that Sakumo finds out just how Genma realized what he had been planning.
Sixteen years old and freshly promoted to tokubetsu jōnin, Genma tells him that he used to think about it constantly while his father had been alive – like a backup plan, you know? If I couldn’t escape by making genin, he says, like it's not something horrible – a child considering suicide a backup plan. When he got especially violent, it seemed like a way out, a way to stop it. And then he died, so, Genma adds with a shrug and throws back his drink, Sakumo following suit soon afterwards.
—
“What did you do?”
Genma looks up from the book he’s reading to meet Kakashi’s searching eyes. “What do you mean?”
Kakashi huffs. “My dad. He seems… better. More like himself. It started after dinner last Wednesday, so” – he shrugs, trying to make it seem like he doesn’t really care about Genma’s answer – “you must have said something to him.”
“Maybe I did,” Genma says, careful not to put himself in a position where he’d have to tell Kakashi just what exactly he had done. He has a feeling he wouldn’t take too kindly to Genma basically threatening Sakumo with a psych eval, no matter why he did it.
“Thank you,” Kakashi blurts out before Genma can start overthinking, making the senbon he’s been chewing on almost fall from his mouth in surprise. Avoiding Genma’s eyes, Kakashi continues. “I don’t care what people say. They’ll forget about it, eventually.”
Genma smiles. “I know.”
—
After the almost disaster at Kannabi bridge, Kakashi grows infinitely more tolerant of Obito’s… well, Obito-ness.
“Hey, Bakashi! Do you even have a type?”
Save for some instances, of course.
Before he can force it not to, Kakashi’s mind flashes with an image of straight brown hair and hazel eyes. He turns his head away from Obito with a scoff. “It’s none of your business.”
The Uchiha’s grin takes on a gleeful edge, like the cat of the Fire Daimyō’s wife whenever it manages to evade the genin trying to capture her. “Or maybe you have a crush on someone,” he drawls, narrowly dodging the stick Kakashi throws at him.
Kakashi feels heat rise to his cheeks and tries to will it down with a scowl. “I don’t.”
Rin lets out a light chuckle as she reaches them with more firewood, Minato behind her. “Kakashi-kun, are you sure about that?”
Minato-sensei throws them all confused glances and Kakashi lets out a sigh. For the rest of their mission, he can’t stop thinking about Genma’s smile as the older boy wished him good luck, the charm he gave Kakashi feeling heavier than it should in his pocket.
Even after they return to the village, he keeps thinking about Obito’s question and Rin’s knowing look, about how the shadows in his father’s eyes have faded over the past four years, about how bashful Genma had been when Minato had asked him to join his guard, about how calm he felt every time he was with the older boy.
—
It takes another two years until the realization hits him – that the warmth in his chest whenever he’s around Genma isn’t just from basically growing up with him, but is actually love. Love, as in wanting to hold his hand, and run fingers through his hair, and kiss his–
When it does, Kakashi almost falls off his perch in a tree and earns himself a few confused head tilts from the rest of Team Rō.
—
The sight of messy silver hair at the edge of his vision makes Genma straighten up in his hospital bed with a smile. “Kakashi! When did you get back–”
He doesn’t get to finish his question before Kakashi slams into him, scuffed armguards digging into his sides. For some reason, he is still in his Anbu uniform, and Genma’s brows pinch together in concern.
“Kakashi?”
Gloved hands tighten their grip on his shirt before a muffled voice reaches his ears. “You idiot,” Kakashi says into the crook of his neck. “Do you know what it’s like to pass the gate only for someone to tell me you’re in the hospital?”
Damn Kotetsu for not knowing how to word things. With a sympathetic wince, Genma reaches up to run his fingers through Kakashi’s mission-stained hair. “Sorry. It’s nothing serious, just some poison they had to flush from my system.”
“’Just some poison’ he says,” Kakashi complains in a poor imitation of Genma’s voice. “You’re lucky he didn’t tell dad like that.”
Genma lets out a sheepish chuckle and wraps his free hand around Kakashi’s waist, returning the hug despite the awkward position. It’s good to have Kakashi back – no matter how many years pass, or how many promotions he gets, Genma can’t help but worry about him still, the twisting of his stomach only easing when he knows the younger man is safe and at home. “He’d already be here stressing the nurses out with his fretting.”
“It’s not like you’re any better,” Kakashi says under his breath, but loud enough for Genma to hear.
Genma ruffles his hair more forcefully in response. “I don’t fret! I just worry an appropriate amount.”
Not even bothering to fix the mess on his head, Kakashi pulls back and gives him an unimpressed look. “If you say so,” he says flatly and sits down at the foot of the bed.
“How was the mission?” Genma asks, and as Kakashi launches into a rant about how incompetent some of the new recruits are, he can’t help but feel as if there was a tension to him, a strange distance Genma can’t quite put his finger on. His mind flashes with the possibility that Kakashi had caught on to his feelings, but he dismisses the thought as soon as it appears – if nothing else, he knows the Hatake. And how oblivious he is.
—
Obito has been more annoying lately, surpassing even the week following his jōnin promotion. “Just tell him, would you? It’s painful to watch at this point. You’ve been into him since, like, forever.”
Case in point as Kakashi’s eyebrow twitches at the Uchiha’s long-suffering tone.
“I think it’s sweet,” Rin says brightly, and Kakashi would even believe her if he didn’t know her better. “Besides, where else do you get to enjoy seeing Kakashi so flustered?”
There it is. “You both have no right to talk. Remind me again how many years it took you to confess?” he asks with a pointed look at Obito.
“That’s irrelevant.” Obito grins, taking Rin’s hand in his and kissing her knuckles like the PDA loving fiend he is. “Because I did it in the end, and got the best girlfriend in the world out of it,” he says and gives Kakashi a smug smile.
Kakashi doesn’t even try to hide his disgust. He just got back from a mission with Kurenai and Asuma – he’s had enough of being a third wheel for at least a few months.
After pressing a quick kiss to Obito’s cheek (and making him blush so hard one would think he’s still fourteen), Rin looks at Kakashi with a face that spells trouble – for him, of course.
“Kakashi, you really should consider being honest with Genma. I don’t know how he feels, but he must have noticed that you’ve been avoiding him,” she says, and doesn’t even wait for Kakashi to protest before continuing. “Gai-kun told me he’s been looking down lately, so at least talk to him.”
Obito nods empathically. “Seriously, Bakashi. You’re acting like he’s going to hate you forever if he finds out,” he says and breaks apart his chopsticks, using one of them to point at Kakashi accusingly. “He could never hate you. Which I don’t understand, but to each their own, I suppose,” he adds before digging into his serving.
Kakashi frowns but doesn’t say anything. He even resists knocking Obito down from his stool as he stares into the full bowl in front of him, mind whirring with a tangle of thoughts and emotions he doesn’t know what to do with. Genma is– Genma has always been there. Steadfast, and kind even after all he had to go through, and Kakashi can’t help but feel like he deserves better than… him.
Suddenly not hungry anymore, Kakashi slides off his stool and leaves the stand before Obito or Rin could stop him.
—
It ends, of all things, with a forgotten scarf.
Kakashi walks through the gates – after a good half an hour of waiting for Obito – as they leave for their mission at last.
They’ve barely made it a few minutes from the village when there’s a shout from behind, a familiar voice calling out Kakashi’s name and making him turn around just in time to catch Genma before he careens into him.
Before he can say or ask anything, Genma holds out a bundle of gray fabric. “Here,” he says, wrapping the scarf around Kakashi’s neck. “Since you’re going to Lightning, I thought it could come in handy.” He gives Kakashi a small smile, a gentle quirk of his lips that for once isn’t accompanied by the wobbling of a senbon.
While Obito is busy complaining about Kakashi sharing mission details (again), Kakashi reaches up to touch the scarf, fingers brushing over worn cotton as he stands half-frozen, his eyes fixed on Genma’s face, on that smile.
He doesn’t know what happens between one moment and the next, all he’s sure of is that the swell of affection in his chest makes him lean forward and pull his mask down with a quick tug, his hands cupping Genma’s face and lips crashing onto ones parted slightly in surprise.
Genma makes a noise of surprise that sounds like a question, but in the next second he’s returning the kiss with an urgency that leaves Kakashi breathless and weak in the knees.
They break apart, and though Kakashi is still a little dazed, he can feel his eyes soften at Genma’s wide-eyed look and flushed cheeks.
“I’ll be back in two weeks,” he says into the small space separating them, wanting to say I’ll miss you. “I…”
Genma gives him a grin, bright and effortless, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to smile at Kakashi. “Be careful,” he says, and Kakashi hears the unsaid I’ll be waiting.
The moment is broken by Obito and Raidou’s groans, followed by shouts of hurry it up, would you?, and Kakashi presses a kiss to the tip of Genma’s nose before pulling his mask up and turning back to his mission partners.
A few steps later, he throws a glance over his shoulder at Genma with a small wave. “By the way, you’re the one who has to tell dad the news!” he calls out, Genma’s distant indignation the last thing he hears as he shunshins away.